Imagine: “Mule” stuck fast. Larry hated it and his friends were never bold enough to drum up his sister’s nickname in front of him, but Larry knew that was what the town was calling her. It could have been worse and he supposed there was at least a little bit of sympathy that passed when the name left their snickering lips. They all knew that Darlene wasn’t always like this, a five year old child in a twenty-two year old body.
But he stuck by her all the same. Even after high school ended and his friends left for big cities or for the 17th Parallel in Vietnam, he stayed with her. Even when the old vets threw him sour frowns when word got around he’d asked for a draft exemption, he stuck with her. He did it because he owed her a debt for the one night when it was Darlene that had stuck with him. Continue reading The 2011 Imaginary Family Project – Week 4→
Always the life of the party, this is a photograph of Lorne Hughbert doing his best Red Skelton impersonation. I took this on the evening of December 31, 1958 at my New Year’s Eve Party celebrating the ringing in of 1959. We were in the basement room at my home on Chautauqua Avenue. Lorne attended the party with my friend Paul Noth, who is in the dark suit, laughing along. At midnight the boys pretended to dance a tango together, Lorne with a long silk rose in his mouth. Everyone laughed at the antics of these confirmed bachelors.
"5th Grade Julie." Piano lessons, art, and even home-building was part of her life, or just down the road in the near future (1973-74).
Out here on the ranch there never seems to be enough time. We are always tending to the animals, building something, or just performing the everyday maintenance that all homeowners have to do. Somehow, and it’s not always easy, I make time for hobbies that enrich my life. So rule #2 translates into “find a hobby you are good at and make time for it.”
The Seed
As a kid, I took dance and piano lessons outside of school, but I had an opportunity to explore sewing (the home economics/shop era) and art during school. I actually remember the advertisement for an art school that read “If you can draw this… you may have a future in art.” We had an empty lot across the street from our house, and I watched my mom start a garden there before it sold and a house was built on the land. I worked summers in the home building industry with my step-dad. I was exposed to a lot of different activities. Exposure is important.
Germination
Just because we are exposed to different activities doesn’t mean we will have the opportunity to pursue those activities. For example, it wasn’t until a co-worker introduced me to quilting and my Aunt Sally gave me a sewing machine that I had the opportunity to pursue sewing. That happened over twenty years ago, and I am still making time for it. I have found that I can look at something and figure out how to make it, but I have also found some success in designing my own interesting projects. Now that I live on a ranch, I have my own space for a garden. I am still learning the basics, but a friend talked me into enrolling in our local Master Gardener class. What a learning experience! I have realized that two of my favorite activities were merged in the creation of the Tag Rag, the gardening bandana I made that I wear every day in the summer.
Mark “The Howard” Hinderliter is one of our RDC contributors who also drives around the state. A lot. He’s a geotechnical engineer and does soil and sub-surface testing for various projects that invariably lead him across the creeks and rivers of Oklahoma. And, underneath the bridges to take photos. A few weeks back, some of our readers were having a conversation about the funky creek names in Oklahoma. Here are a few of their comments:
Dog Thrasher Creek. I don’t remember exactly where it was but around Pawhuska to Drumright-Pawnee area of Oklahoma..
@Mike – somewhere (I think close to Woodward?) I drove by Skunk Creek.
One of my friends, (name omitted), told me that on road trips with her grand-kids they played a “game” of sorts where they would try to decide why a creek got its name. I’ll try to send you a pic of Hog Shooter Creek soon. We have some great names in NE Okla.
There’s “Suck Creek” but that’s down around Chattanooga.
Anyway, you get the picture…then Mark chimed in and said he had photos of several creeks in Oklahoma…and, well, there’s our Silent Sunday “trip” for you today. He wrote about these photos he loaded for you, “The great old bridges of Oklahoma display a lot of different designs but they are being replaced. Enjoy these pictures, but be grateful you won’t have to drive across them anymore.”
Why poetry? In Jr. High I wanted to be a rock star. So I started writing songs. None were very good. Then we had to write stories for an English class. So I wrote some stories. I continued writing throughout Jr. High and high school but it wasn’t until I was a Junior in high school that I started getting into poetry. It was in Mrs. Innis’s English class in 1988-89 that I really found my calling, so to speak. We had to write some poems and I got a good response from the teachers and other students. So I wrote more. I found it to be a nice escape from my problems and a good way to vent my frustrations with the world.
Imagine:
“And that,” Ava dealt the photo onto the Duncan Phyfe tabletop like it was the final card in a high-stakes game of Twenty-One, “is a reeeaaal Southern agriculturalist, taking a fine-weather day from his crop-tending to catch some fish! He was so kind to let us take his picture, would you just LOOK at that cane pole?” She peered over her reading glasses at her bridge group assembled around the table. They stared intently at the photograph as though it were unlocking the mysteries of life and they should take care to soak in every bit of magic it had to offer them. It was Ava’s turn to host, she had made the refreshments, and they were determined to act interested.
Thank you to Jeanie Eaton and her Rural Expressions concept by Onetulsa.com for selecting some of her work to share with us this morning. Her venues consist of, Lazy E Arena, Feather Creek Farm, Tulsa Expo , Claremore Expo and various Breeding Farms across the state. The events consists of : Hunter Jumper, Dressage, Barrel Racing, Rodeo, Eventing, and Breed Shows. Jeanie is the webmaster for Oklahoma Dressage Society and Co-Organizer for Tulsa Digital Photography Group. ~ Enjoy your Silent Sunday.
I’ve known Boe Parrish since he was the Children’s Minister at MetroChurch back in the early 90s. I first saw him providing a chapel service for the Oklahoma Christians Schools (OCS) elementary group. The students were sitting on the floor in an auditorium, and he was standing on the stage sharing an object lesson with them in what I can only describe as a loving and regulated voice. As I leaned against the back wall waiting for chapel to be over so I could take my daughter to the dentist, I asked someone his name. Later, I began teaching at the OCS high school and saw him from time to time on campus. A few years later I recall that he wrote a book. Then I think I saw him on and off at Panera Bread in Edmond for several years, either having breakfast by himself or with a friend – sometimes praying, sometimes studying, sometimes listening. Later he was helpful in facilitating information about a former student who got hit by an SUV while out of state, then again…facilitating information about a dear friend who recently died. Boe has been in the periphery of my life for a good long time now.
As I was preparing this post I kept thinking back to my memories of interactions with Boe. My predominant thought is to recall him looking up, meeting my eyes, and smiling. His smile hasn’t changed and is almost an institution in the City of Edmond. It genuinely warms my spirit each time I meet the glance of his face. Which leads me to the reason I’m sharing his narrative with you today…
Boe has been posting snapped photos of early morning sunrises in Oklahoma on Facebook for quite some time. His folder now has over 40 of them. He’ll post one about every week or so…sometimes a few at a time. I always enjoyed them but never knew the context for which he was gathering these brief moments of outdoor beauty or why he shares them. Now I do. It seems that he’s somewhat of a transportation service provider to a couple of his family members…but I’ll let you read the story in his own words. Then I’ll share with you a few of his “Simply Glorious” (his title for the photo folder in which he stores them) sunrises he’s enjoyed over the past year or so. Okay, I’m sharing nineteen of them. So, for your “Almost Silent Sunday” moment with the RDC, here are Bo’s Sunrise Stories, provided in his words and with his cell phone or camera:
He’s professional without being uncomfortable. He’s nice. He’s creative and has a keen interest in helping reveal the beauty of life within his subjects. In an attempt to reduce a personality and business of positive complexities into a cohesive concept, his website reads:
“There are two things you need to know about me. I enjoy life and I believe in creating images that make you feel something.”
Carl Zoch went into full-time photography business only a few short years ago. He and his wife had to talk about it. And think about it. And part of those discussions were about Carl’s desire to learn more and more about the subject of photography until he had exhausted his capacity to learn. He is still not done. However, his business and business model is beginning to take shape.
He only books 25 weddings per year. He’s become well connected and referred within the photographer community of Oklahoma. He is linked occasionally to other creative ventures or people such as Dusty Gilpin at Tree and Leaf (who, by the way, just designed our RDC T-Shirts).
And, his work is very good. I invite you to spend some time reviewing his website at your leisure. I like the background music he’s chosen for his slides, and I like his open and willing communication style when I e-mail him, asking to publish an image for our “Silent Sunday” features. But I think more than anything today, I like him because he just sent the proofs of my daughter’s engagement photos to her in a slideshow…and because they made me cry.
This morning our Silent Sunday post is completely focused on Tulsa. Because quite a few of our contributors live in central Oklahoma, we want to make sure and let Tulsa know they are in our hearts as well. All images have been provided by Vlad Railian, an amateur photographer from the Tulsa area. We’re certainly glad you’re living in Tulsa Town, Vlad…and for showing us some of what your city has to offer. One final note, the LED photos aren’t necessarily “Tulsa,” per se – I just liked them and thought they might be appreciated as Christmas lights with a twist. ~ RDK
I can’t quite remember what I got for Christmas last year. Or the year before. And definitely not the year before that.
In fact, for the most part I can’t remember what I got for Christmas for the last ten years. (No offense to my husband I promise.) I can however, remember what I got for Christmas when I was six years old.
You see, those gifts changed my life. I remember finding them in my mother’s closet…
I had waited until she was asleep on the couch to go poking through her room. I knew my presents were in there because she had forbidden me from setting foot anywhere near her small closet about a week before. I might have been six, but I wasn’t an idiot; something was hiding in there.
This November 12 edition of the Heavener Ledger ("Gateway to the Mountains" - serving Heavener and LeFlore County since 1904) is but one example of the challenges Oklahoma faces re: poor bridges and roads. For more information on what looks to be possible improvement in our state's situation, click this photo to visit a NewsOK article recently published.
Photographer's one week old colt, taken April, 2010 - Fittstown, OK (south of Ada). To visit "Brown Photography" blog, click the photo.
Looks like this little girl's parents will be up for more face painting this year as the OSU Cowboy football team continues their winning streak. Click photo to visit the OSUPics site.
My Juniors and I just finished reading and discussing Arthur Miller’s The Crucible. You may remember reading the play when you were in high school. As a refresher, The Crucible is about the Salem witch trials, and the tragic account of how all hell breaks loose in a community when theocratic leaders abuse their powers, drugging the masses with the opiate of absolutist rhetoric, and scapegoating and killing everyone on the margins that represents a threat to the status quo. The play was written in the midst of the Red Scare era, and was meant to critique Joseph McCarthy’s “witch hunts” for communists in academia, Hollywood, even the White House.
What struck me this time while reading the play was how those who were in power – Parris, Judge Hawthorn, Judge Danforth – were able to take bad theology and convert it into a kind of mythological drug for the masses. Specifically, they were able to create stories with the capacity to reshape reality to serve their agendas – most importantly to keep themselves in power. Thus they told their story of the “Devil’s work” in the Salem community until the people in the community were telling the stories to each other. After awhile, the leaders were able to sit back and watch the myth work like a wild-fire, devouring anything amendable to reasonableness.
The play descends into hell as these God-ordained leaders substitute theology for ideology, and come to actually believe in the stories they have created. The point Miller makes as hundreds hang from the gallows is this: it’s not reality that we believe in; it’s the stories about reality that we believe in. And these stories are powerful enough to make us believe we have the right to torture, persecute, and ultimately kill (aka bomb, bomb, bomb) in God’s name.
What’s tragic then, as personified in John Proctor’s character, is that when a minority of people refuse to fall under the spells of such silver-tongued wizards, they become the perfect antagonist for the stories that the myth-makers are telling. Thus the John Proctor’s of the world get cast as the “enemy of God”. And so for those like John Proctor, who represent grounded-reality folk, who represent the prophetic voice, who represent the voice from the margins, who represent the Church as the Conscience to the State (as opposed to the Masters of the State or the Servants of the State) – they get what tends to happen to minorities, prophets, those who live on the fringes – they get shunned, branded, vilified, demonized and ultimately silenced. It happened to Isaiah. To Amos. To John the Baptist. To Jesus. To Peter. To Paul. To Martin Luther King Jr. To Oscar Romero. To Dietrich Bonhoeffer. And so many more. And it still happens today.
Sometimes I wonder if there are enclaves of evangelicals who are like the Salem denizens – drugged victims of a mythology, ignorant cogs in a industrial-military-machinery, who believe in a reality that is a gross parody of the way things really are. Just ask most evangelicals what their eschatology is, for example, and you’ll probably sense what I’m getting at. What you’ll get an ear full of is not theology but mythology, a boilerplate version of The Left Behind series, where the “us” (those who think and believe like us) get raptured up to heaven and the “them” (anyone who doesn’t think like or believe the things we do) get left to suffer the wrath of God. Ultimately this version of the biblical story tends to leverage our fear of losing power, which then fuels our desire to preserve the status quo, which then involves ultimately keeping the powerful in power to take away that fear, which ultimately then gives those in power the ability to pass policies that involves raping the earth, feeding our addiction to oil, making the rich richer, borrowing billions from China, torturing our enemies (thus making us like them), bombing and killing the innocent, and doing nothing to truly end extreme poverty in third world countries. I mean really, what’s the point of re-arranging the lawn chairs on the Titanic if it’s all going to sink anyway, right? If the story ends with the total annihilation of all things created, as opposed to the total restoration of all things, then what’s the point?Religion then, as Karl Marx famously points out, becomes the opiate of the en masse. We are drugged into living passively for the afterlife and not actively for this life. Rather than engaging the problems and seeking to put the world back to rights, we instead seek to escape the problems and demand our rights to keep the world just the way it is – titled to our advantage.
By writing this, I know that I may be putting my neck in the noose like John Proctor. But is it worth sticking my neck out? That’s what I asked my Juniors at the end of class today. Was John Proctor’s sacrifice worth it? Was his death heroic? Or pathetic?
I leave that question for you to explore. As for me I’m wanting to learn how to be brave. Ironically I find it is easier to be brave with those who aren’t Christians than it is with those who are. Why is that? I’m not sure. But it’s because I love my evangelical brothers and sisters, and it’s because I want to honor my evangelical roots, that I ask them to humble themselves before God with me and seek His face and His truth with all their being. My critique comes from within as an evangelical. It’s a lovers quarrel, really.
So I say, Absolutely! It’s worth the risk. Because I am trying to live deliberately by another story. Not the story of domination. Not the story of revolution. Not the story of purification. Not the story of victimization. Not the story of isolation. Not the story of accumulation. But the story of restoration – the story of heaven crashing into earth and making all things new. This is the story I seek first and foremost. This is the story I have been summoned up into, which is the story of Jesus launching a project to put the world back to rights, to reconcile heaven and earth, to usher in a never-ceasing age of shalom (Isa. 11).
For some while I’ve believed that the most revealing political show on television is, without a doubt, Jon Stewart’s “The Daily Show” on cable television’s Comedy Central. At first blush, this is an absurd statement to make. The Daily Show is, after all, a comedy show on a comedy channel hosted by a long running comedian. But Jon Stewart’s wit and intellect, coupled with the show’s ability to strip issues to their core and reveal the underlying truth (often through parody and exaggeration) is a one-of-a-kind gem. Though occasionally criticized – probably fairly – for leaning a bit left of center, the show owns no set allegiance and is quick to shine it’s revealing light on topics sensitive to political ideologues of either side. Case in point… his “Working Stiffed”skit poking hypocritical fun at a Union in Nevada.
Beyond commentary on daily political events, The Daily Show is also a serious production with serious guests covering a long string of serious topics. Republicans and Democrats alike wait in line to be interviewed by Jon, as well as major scientists, entertainers and authors. Heck, in a two-week period Jon featured lengthy and thoughtful one-on-one interviews with both Condolezza Rice and Barrack Obama.
Why does the show draw such political opposites? One reason only: it’s fair. In between his often hilarious side jaunts and quick witted friendly jabs and instant self-deprecation, Jon asks real questions and allows his guests the courtesy and time to give serious and developed answers. In a world where cable networks have joined sides, run to the fringe and focused on sound bites or hyperbole, The Daily Show is a small breath of fresh air; it tackles serious topics, allows for details and nuance, and wraps it all up in highly entertaining edgy irreverence.
So when Jon announced on a recent show that he was going to hold a Rally To Restore Sanity on the DC lawn, an obvious play on Glenn Beck’s Rally To Restore Honor that had taken place in the same location a few weeks earlier, I was searching airline prices within minutes. When his Comedy Central colleague Stephen Colbert, in his own show immediately following Jon’s, announced a simultaneous and competing “Rally To Keep Fear Alive” … I knew I had to go. This event immediately appeared to be this generation’s Woodstock for mildly disenchanted but fun-loving and optimistic middle of the road pacifists. How can you possibly say no to that?
So with that, my airline tickets were purchased and on the late afternoon of Friday, October 29th, I was on my way to DC for a rapid fire two-day trip to enjoy the Rally on the 30th. With a late arrival on the 29th I just grabbed a cheap hotel, but the following morning I got together with my friend and former Normanite, Allison Smith, her son, and her fiancée John. We started the day out at a great local breakfast Diner and then headed toward the Mall. This turned out to be a great place to have the advice of locals, because they knew where to catch a bus and roll right to the Lawn trouble-free. I heard many reports later of a completely jam-packed Metro system, and some of my friends had trouble even getting there.
Fortunately for us, we made it to the rally just in time and found…the biggest crowd I’ve ever been part of in my life! Size counts eventually put the crowd at 250,000 making it the largest DC rally this year by a factor of approximately 3. Clearly Jon and Stephen had struck a chord with this event. So, we tried our best to make it near the stage on 3rd street, or at least to the satellite stage on 5th street. 7th street was as far as I got, and I also got completely separated from Allison and John in the process!…something we all thought might happen. Fortunately we had a meetup plan for later.
Being four full blocks from the stage, you’d think there might be room for comfort.
No.
Every once in a while I could move a half-step; most of the time I could not. It was truly a can of sardines. I could only catch an occasional glimpse of the video screen, and had to wonder about the people behind me – the crowd extended for another four full blocks. A few brave souls even took to tree climbing for a better view, which allowed me the opportunity to catch this wonderful video of some dude climbing a truly difficult tree. It was painful to watch. Catch the crowd with their impromptu “Yes You Can! Yes You Can!”. Awesome.
Click photo to start "Tree Climbing 'Yes You Can!'" video.
The rally itself was only three hours long and most of it was music and some silly skits between Jon and Stephen. The Roots gave a full half hour performance, and were followed by one of the stars of MythBusters who conducted several crowd experiments – the best of which was a “wave” of vocalized “wooooo’s”. But my favorite music performance of the day was a duel between Cat Stevens representing Jon, singing Peace Train, and Ozzy Osbourne representing Stephen, singing Crazy Train – ultimately resolved by the O’Jays with the song Love Train. Adding to the start studded cast were Cheryl Crow, Kid Rock, Tony Bennett, and even a guest appearance by Kareem Abdul Jabar.
After a solid two and a half hours of fun, Jon took the stage to make a more serious speech. Jon’s a comedian, and consequently is a pretty silly guy most of the time. But every so often he gets serious. One of the finest “serious moments” was his appearance on CNN’s Crossfire a few years ago. Recruited to come on the show, be funny, and talk about The Daily Show – he decided to do anything but. Instead he took the show to task HARD, and flipped in on it’s lid. (click here for a video link) One week later, in a classic television moment, the show was cancelled! Another time on The Daily Show he took liberal financial expert James Cramer to the carpet for his role in hyper-sensationalizing serious financial topics right up to the brink of the 2008 meltdown. So though it’s a rare occurrence, it’s not unheard of for Jon to show a serious side.
Jon’s speech lasted about 15 minutes, and had a few spectacular lines. My favorites… “If we amplify everything, we hear nothing”… and, “We live in hard times, not end times.” His point of it all seemed to be that times are tough, but people are good and resilient. The noise is just noise, no matter what cable news channels say, and the overwhelming majority of Americans are good people that work hard and together every day. (link to full video and transcript) Ultimately the crowd in attendance was plenty of proof of Jon’s point. After the speech a mood of happiness took over for the next several hours as the crowd hung out and slowly drifted away.
At this point I found Allison and John again and we just took in the atmosphere – taking lots of pictures, including tons and tons of rally signs. The photo gallery below contains my favorites, and here’s a precious video of Allison’s son learning how to dance to an impromptu trash can and bottle drummer.
Click photo to begin "Allison's Son Beginning to Dance."
So what was the point of the rally? I believe it was, more than anything, simply a demonstration that in a world that sometimes seems to have gone mad, things in reality are pretty normal. When 250,000 people of all ages, shapes, races, persuasions, and size decide to come together for a celebration of civility our national situation must not be as bad as the TV and radio seem to want us to believe. As for Jon himself, I’ve concluded that he’s a bit of Mark Twain character for our generation. A great author, funny man, and somewhat liberal observer of a mankind. I’m glad we have him around.
So it was a wonderful weekend. A nice Ethiopian meal and breakfast at the same Diner capped off the weekend and before I knew it I was flying home happy. Many thanks to Jon and his 250,000 friends, and to my two friends Allison and John for a great weekend that I’ll never forget.
Let’s finish up with a photo gallery!
Click any image for a larger view, and to enter a slide presentation format.
John and Stephen Pumpkinized
I am Woman hear me … speak clearly and succinctly while also acknowledging your opposing point of view
I many not agree with what you say, but I’ll defend to the death your … ow! Quit curb stomping me!
What do we want? MORE SANITY! When do we want it! MORE SANITY!
I must be dyslexic, my Rights Left.
Things are pretty OK.
Don’t tread on me … and get the ?#!% off my lawn!
Met this nice guy on the bus. He was bummed he missed the rally, but told me he liked my camera.
Washington Monument over changing trees.
The gorgeous doors to the Department of Justice.
Patriot and national hero Nathan Hale.
No guns in Theaters.
I really need a hug from a girl.
Drum Circle on Wheels!… with a sail.
National Gallery of Art
National Gallery of Art
“I made out with Her”—> (as my friend Allison patiently poses for the camera)
Join, or Don’t.
Bad Spy from Spy vs Spy demasked… meets cute American Eagle.
It doesn’t get more American than that haircut!
Allison gets interviewed.
I could really go for a Glenn Beck grilled cheese about now.
Bee Kind
I am the silent majority … can you hear me now?
My fear ate your flying spaghetti monster.
Rally with Capitol in back.
Rally stage.
Two things Americans hate: 1) Paying Taxes 2) Giving up things our taxes pay for
Spy vs Spy meets Waldo
I DETEST people who HATE
Spy vs Spy
Ninja Squirrel!
No, seriously. Ninja Squirrel!
Hardcore Moderate
Old Maids 4 Sanity
Hide yo wife. Hide yo kids. Hide yo husbands. Cuz jihadist bedbugs are terrorizin’ e’rbody.
The world is Nuanced; get used to it.
This picture brings back the happy memories.
Open Minds (no fear)
Read. Think.
“Free Bad Advice” … from kids sitting on a porta-potty. Who could say no to that?
Socialist?
Let’s use our indoor voices.
Hitler is Hitler.
media on the mall
Be Sane, not Inane.
Take it down a notch for America. I like pie.
Maybe
Maybe Not
We’re here! We’re steer! Get used to it!
Sensible Centrists
Happy crowd.
Exaggerated Hyperbole – Stop This Bickering – Vote Moderate
Support The Right To Arm Bears – Bears With Guns
9/11 was an OUTSIDE job
End The Now!
Impeach Baracula
Jesus on a traffic light
Tree People
Bacon for All! Regardless of ability to pay.
More Tree Peeps
USA!
Americans for …oh, look – a puppy!
I hate crowds.
SANITY – Seeking All Non-negative Individuals To Yunite (the Y is silent)
This was not the day I was expecting. My school was closed in honor of Veterans Day. I woke up at 3:00AM (my usual time), got comfortable, and managed to stay in bed ‘til 7:00AM. My day had endless possibilities. I walked around in pajamas, drank coffee, and watched a little TV, but a missed call from my husband plus a voicemail was how I learned that my father-in-law, Chris Allgyer, the reason we get to enjoy this beautiful country life, died in his sleep. Chris had spent the last five days at home but the previous six weeks in the hospital fighting complications from cancer.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of tears, visitors, and funeral arrangements. Even the animals were confused at all of the activity. One of my indoor cats ran outside and had still not come back in by our bedtime adding to my conflicted emotional state. I went to bed but did not sleep.
Westerns
There weren't many places we went without Chris. This was before a Valentine's Day dinner at a local church.
In 2004 after we sold our house in the city, we moved in with Chris. The trailer was small, but cozy. Well, not as cozy as it was HOT. He kept the thermostat at 73 degrees all while running the propane heater in the living room. I tried to watch Friends reruns, but he insisted on watching anything on the Encore Western channel instead. Chris loved Western movies. Gradually, the Westerns grew on me. I loved the horses and the old-fashioned cowboy attire. I even consented to watch different versions of the same movie…the old one…. and the really old one. We continued the “watching Westerns during dinner” tradition even after we moved into our own house. Most Sunday nights I would cook dinner for Greg and Chris, Chris would complain that I didn’t put enough chicken in whatever we were having (he called it “dragging the chicken through”), and I would find a Western for us to watch during dinner. After dinner Chris would settle in the big chair, close his eyes, and ask for a blanket. Our thermostat was not set at 73 degrees.
Blackberries
One day while I was mowing Chris’s yard, I came across some wild blackberries. He informed me that he knew about a gold mine of the berries and promised to take me. The next morning we gathered our buckets and I met him at the tractor. I stood on the Bush Hog (kids, don’t try this at home) and he drove us down to the corner of his property. We picked pails of blackberries and I made my first blackberry jam and cobbler. This past summer he was too sick to take me, so while my OSU friend Kim was visiting, I took them both to a nearby blackberry farm. Kim complained about the thorns and Chris could not breath well enough to get out of the car to help. Chris, sitting there in the car, reminded me of how he used to sit in his own truck in the shade and take a nap. The cobbler didn’t taste nearly as sweet as it did the summer before.
Windfall Profits
In the summertime, it was often only Chris and I at the ranch. If I had a little cash on me, I would text Chris and ask him to lunch. His first question would always be to ask me where I got the money. My standard answer would be “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had a windfall profit.” He always laughed and started calling any amount of cash I had on me a windfall profit. We would try to go to lunch at least once a week or two to the post office in Laconia, TN. It was one of his favorite places to eat. For me, not so much, but I would still go and get a little cornbread and green beans while he loaded his plate down with chicken livers, greens, and other country-fried foods. It didn’t take me long to clean my plate so I could be the first to survey the dessert table and report back the selection. I’d pay the tab (a total of $8.50 for all-you-can-eat) and we’d head home. On into the evening he would walk out onto the back porch, turn on the porch light, start up the diesel (I could hear it from my house) and take off for a late night cup of coffee and a lottery ticket. Before I went to bed I would wait for his headlights to come up his driveway. If my husband was still awake, I’d simply say, “Dad’s home.” The truck was parked and the porch light was turned off.
Mitchell, Christin, Chris, and Melissa at Greg's 50th birthday celebration. Chris was proud of his grandchildren.
This morning I woke up to find my missing cat scurrying on the porch past the French doors that face Chris’s trailer. I noticed the porch light at Chris’s still on. I know the evenings of looking for his headlights coming up the drive are gone and that porch light will stay on until one of us goes up there to turn it off. Once I let the cat safely in the house, I thought to myself, “Dad’s home.”
Matt Duckworth, drummer for Star Death and White Dwarfs, backstage perspective. Star Death is setting off for another tour this week. Photo printed with permission from Matt.Oh, it's just deer season in Oklahoma. Red Dirt Kelly grabbed her camera, rolled down her window, drove with her left hand and took the shot with her right hand. Shouldn't these trucks come with some kind of warning sign for passers by? "Warning, dead deer in truck. Those with queasy stomachs, please keep your eyes averted. Thank you."And, speaking of shooting...100 years ago today, The Daily Oklahoman published a front page article about a county election Chairman declaring that he will NOT resign from his position. Further, he would shoot anyone who crosses the threshold of their office and threatens the sovereignty of the "sacred ballots." He proclaimed, "I have the keys to the boxes in which they are deposited and by the eternal gods I will protect them with my life." Red Dirt Kelly says, "Go, Judge Beall!"And speaking of "Beale" (not Beall), little "Jesse" (Katie Beth) Beal makes a great Toy Story character for Halloween. Red Dirt Kelly saw no less than six "Jesses" this year, and all of them were great. Lookin' good, Katie Beth!The Goddard School in Edmond gets creative with a bale of hay. When I walked around to the other side, there was a Jack-o-Lantern face painted on it. One bale of hay, TWO seasonal displays 🙂 Photo by Kelly.Antique oil cans (jars) from a long-ago service station. Just one of the many sites to see at "The Stables Cafe" in Guthrie, Oklahoma. - Photo by Kelly
Poteau Ballon Festival, held Oct 22-23, 2010. Click photo to visit their website.
We hear the food at Poteau Balloon Fest is amazing. Mmmm, I can smell the fire, can you? - Click photo to visit the Balloon Fest website.
My drive from the Oklahoma State (OSU) v. Baylor game this afternoon to Guthrie provided the best hour of my week. You KNOW that’s saying a great deal since I’m such a huge OSU fan – and we beat the pants off Baylor today. Mick and I had driven to the game separately because I had an early appointment this morning, and then I left after the third quarter because I tend to get antsy when I sit still for a very long period of time. He stayed ’till the glorious end of that fine, fine game.
Don’t doubt my team loyalties, though…I DID listen to the game on the radio through the very last play.
I was on a mission. Pick up a bucket of chlorine treatment tablets for our aerobic septic system. We have to buy one about every eighteen months. No one carries the product within a 50 square mile area of our house except the Ace Hardware in Guthrie. I would not fail; I would accomplish my goal and meet my hubby back at home.
But then I got sidetracked. I saw another hay truck and it was broken down on the side of the interstate. I had to go take pictures! The driver and his daughter were from Apache and she had brought tools to the site so he could make repairs. I just wanted to get close to the load on that truck and smell the hay! They good-naturedly agreed. So, stop one in Logan county…broken down hay truck. I REALLY wish I could provide you with the scent of that beautiful cut hay aroma filling my lungs while I snapped away.
Mmmmm. Can you smell the hay?Well, here. Stick your face in it. Maybe that will help. Breathe deep!
I thanked the driver and his daughter, turned around, and saw some cows in a pen I thought might need their family portraits taken. So I provided that service, free of charge.
It was dusty in the pen! I told them to look at the camera and smile. But, you know how it goes...always a trouble-maker in the bunch.I tried to work with this family, but Dad kept trying to get Junior to stand up straight. Junior didn't want to cooperate. The girls on the right had just fixed their hair and weren't about to mess it up by moving around.I was just about to leave when this poor dear ran up to me and asked for a Kleenex. I fixed her right up, and then went on my way.
I headed down the highway, got off on Highway 33, and drove into Guthrie. Before reaching the hardware store, I stopped to walk around a bit. I noticed two things on my stroll. 1) There are lots of American flags hanging from the homes and businesses there; and, 2) if it weren’t for the cars, the calendar could easily have been somewhere between November, 1880 and 1950.
Five flags between the three houses.I love their brick streets!If we're pretending, I get the top corner bedroom with the three windows!J.M. Williams would like for you to come to "The Willows" Gallery of Fine Fits and Home Decor and buy some teapots. I like their quilts!Guthrie, Oklahoma - a place where the barber pole still beacons you for a haircut.I like muscle cars. This one has a challenge to the highway patrol on his bumper.
Next stop, Ace Hardware (OHC Supply). I appreciate this place for all the reasons you’re getting ready to see. I love the Tractor Supply Store in Edmond, but I think I love this place almost as much.
They flew the American AND the Oklahoma flag. Bonus points!Ace ALSO has taxidermical interior design, with gaslight accents...and they're a little less dusty than the ones at Meers. (See my post for "And THAT's the News in Red Dirt Country" for an explanation re: this caption).Every narrow aisle is stacked from the hardwood floor to just below the ceiling with inventory. It's kind of like being in your grandparent's attic.Bingo, mission accomplished! The chlorine tablets are in stock and I'm taking one home to my hubby!This is Alex. Not only was he kind enough to pose for a photo, but he assured me that the chlorine tablets were going to stay at a reasonable price until I needed them next time. This shot also made me realize that it may not have been dust at the cow pen, but a fingerprint on my lens...oh no!Do you know why I embrace the fact that Ace carries Dickies brand outer and work wear? No, it's not because the clothing is good...although it may be. (See next photo).It's because Dickies has hunky models for their Ace Hardware ads! Sigh.
Okay, time to leave the store. On my way out I cleaned off my lens because I thought there might be a few shots left of something I’d like to share with you from my journey through Logan County. There was.
Rather than beavers, eagles, bears or other wildlife, artists in Guthrie carve high school football players from their dead trees. It takes skill to carve that football with a chainsaw and not cut it off!It's pansy time, and the window boxes in Guthrie were full of them!I drove by this hot rod and it yelled at me. I heard it. It said, "Ditch the RX300 and take me on your ride around Logan County instead...I know where I'm going!" I couldn't look it in the eye or I would have caved. Sorry, hot rod. I had to get home.
On my way home I took Waterloo Road (the county line between Oklahoma and Logan counties) on a back-road route because I really needed some farm raised eggs. We were down to one, and if I eat one more runny store-purchased egg I’m going to throw a fit. Unfortunately, the egg sign was down. That’s country talk for, “None right now. Check with me later.” So, I drove the last few miles home.
But then I stopped again. I saw Ferdinand sitting under his cork tree. Okay, it wasn’t Ferdinand the Spanish Bull from the well-known children’s book, he didn’t have long horns and it wasn’t a cork tree. But it was a black Angus and he was looking pretty majestic under his beautiful tree this afternoon.
Add horns, pretend it's a cork tree, and cue the Spanish Bull Fighter music. Ole'!I had to tiptoe over a cattle guard to take this shot. Not to be outdone by a chainsaw artist, these ranchers created their own art by hanging cobalt, white and mauve bottles from their dead tree. Reminds me of Sante Fe, NM for some reason.
Well, you’ve seen about 25 of the 100+ shots I took…all reasons why I love Logan County. I hope next time you’ll see a photo of me buying fresh eggs and celebrating because the chlorine tablets are no longer $56.00 per bucket. Either way, I also hope you enjoy your own drive through this area sometime. And if you do, please send us a photo and tell us about the treasures you found.
Take care…RDK
Showcasing Red Dirt culture ~ authored and managed by contributors with connections to the great state of Oklahoma.
